The Date
by astateofgrace
Summary: Sam manages to take Quinn out for a date, a date which surprises Quinn


"How about we do something Saturday night?" Sam waltzed up to Quinn unannounced, dumping his backpack on the ground next to him. Quinn, who had been quietly sitting on one of the benches that lined the McKinley High quad, flinched slightly as she was pushed from her daydreams. After a moment of silence, Sam tried again, sitting down on the bench next to her, shoulder to shoulder.

"You, me, Saturday night. How 'bout it?"

"I don't date, Sam. You know that." Quinn replied in her trademark hushed voice.

"Well, it doesn't have to be a 'date- date', it can just be a 'friend- date.'" Sam reassured the teenage girl, a doubtful look still clouding her features.

"I don't think so, Sam. My sister's engagement's on."

"I know you, Quinn. You can't shy away from boys altogether, and anyway, your sister's already married." Sam reasoned, nudging her elbow friendlily with his. Quinn sighed, defeated.

"Fine, but if you speak one word of that nerdy Avatar language, I'll be gone so quick you won't have time to register it." She pointed her finger at him sternly. Sam simply grinned triumphantly and gave her a thumbs-up to which Quinn rolled her eyes; he was so childish sometimes.

Quinn Fabray pulled out her mobile, typing on the keypads swiftly.

_Hey, where am I meeting u 2nite?_

A minute or so after she had sent it, her phone buzzed. Collapsing on her bed, Quinn was unusually quick to open the new message. Her normal habit was to let people stew so they knew that she wasn't going to stop whatever she was doing to answer a text from them. But this was different; it was Sam.

_The park 8_

So there she was; the head of the Cheerios and the most popular girl in school was standing at the park gates looking inside for any sign of human inhabitants. If Sam had stood her up, there would be hell to pay. But there he was; she could just make his figure out in the moonlight, standing under the gazebo next to the playground, left hand in his jeans pocket, the right one running through his straw-blond hair. Sam grinned as Quinn approached, walking forward to meet her.

"You look beautiful." He smiled shyly, looking down at her dress, leggings and scarf draped around her neck delicately.

"I thought you said this wasn't a date." She said suspiciously.

"It's not if you don't want it to be." The footballer was swift to reassure her. A moments silence passed as the pair stood awkwardly.

"So...why the park?" Quinn asked curiously. Sam's eyes brightened at that, "Come look at this!" he beckoned, taking her hand as he turned to rush towards the playground.

"A swing set?" Quinn asked as they stopped, her voice thick with misunderstanding.

"Yeah, isn't it great?" he asked, moving to sit on one of the two swings, using his legs to propel him far into the air. Quinn stood, unimpressed, on the ground.

"Oh, come on! Swings are awesome! Have you never been on one before?" Sam asked amazed as he swung in the air.

"Of course I have. But swings are for little kids." Quinn retorted.

"No, they're not! If they are, explain why I'm on one right now!" Sam bellowed as his messy hair sailed through the wind.

"Sadly, that proves my point..." Quinn muttered. Sam went on as if he hadn't heard that last remark.

"Get on the other one, Quinn! Please?"

"No, Sam." Quinn crossed her hands over her chest.

"Come on! Live a little! You never do anything out of your comfort range, Q!" Sam complained.

"The last time I did something out of my comfort range, Sam, I was pushing a child out of me!" Quinn all but screamed. It was silent for a moment after that.

"Sorry." Sam stopped swinging his legs in the air, losing the momentum and eventually grinding the swing to a halt. Quinn placed her hand on her hip, watching the teenager intently.

"Please, Quinn? Just a little go?" Sam whispered a minute after. Fabray pursed her lips in thought.

"Push me." She walked over to the spare swing and sat herself down.

"What?" Sam asked, still on his swing. He was confused as he looked into her grey eyes.

"I'll have a go, but you have to push me." Quinn repeated. Sam shrugged and stood, shuffling over to stand behind Quinn. He placed his hands just above Quinn's on the metal chains.

"Ready?"

Quinn nodded and a moment after, she felt herself flying high in the air as Sam pushed her. She couldn't help but to let out a giggle of excitement as the wind swept through her hair and the ground was far below her feet.

"How awesome is it?" Sam laughed, looking quite pleased with himself as he had managed to get a giggle from Quinn Fabray. After a few more pushes from Sam, he moved to his own swing and joined Quinn in soaring through the air.

"I bet I can go higher than you..." Sam dared. Quinn scoffed, quite un-ladylike.

"Yeah, right. I can go higher than you..." she laughed and gave herself that extra push so she was higher in the air than Sam. He was quite happy to let Quinn win; he was getting her to relax, and that, he wouldn't trade for anything.

"Oh, great."

"It's raining!" Quinn moaned of dissatisfaction as the pair felt the large drops of water on their foreheads.

"We have to get to shelter." Quinn surmised, starting to dash for the gazebo.

"Wait! It's not gonna kill you!" Sam grabbed her arm and raised his face to the dark sky, enjoying the drops of rain falling on his face.

"But it'll ruin my hair!"

"Seriously? I did so much work in getting you to relax half an hour ago and now you're afraid of getting your hair wet? It's just hair, and anyway, I'm sure your hair looks as amazing wet as it does dry."

"Speak for yourself, Mr. Lemon- Dyer." Quinn retorted.

"Come on! Dance with me!" Sam laughed, taking Quinn's hand and dancing lazily around her. She laughed as she watched Sam, even joining in after a while. Two minutes later, Sam was leading Quinn in a dance, one hand clasped with hers, the other on her waist. He let go of her waist, twirling her around as the rain pelted the ground and soaked through their clothes. When Sam dipped her, then pulled her up flush to his body, he felt her shiver through the fabric of her dress.

"Quick." He stopped dancing, leading her up the few steps to the gazebo where the rain couldn't reach them.

"Your cold." He noted, shrugging off his jacket and slipping it onto her tiny frame.

"It's probably not much help because it's wet, too, but it's something." He watched her as she slipped her hands though the sleeves.

"Thank you." She whispered. Their foreheads were almost touching as they stood watching each other, waiting for the other to speak. It was not that Sam wondered if he could kiss her; she was certainly relaxed enough. No, he couldn't; she told him it was just a 'friend- date', no more. He wouldn't stoop to Puck's level. Sam glanced at his watch, breaking the long-held eye contact.

"I'll walk you home." He whispered.

_Quinn Fabray was never one to back down o promises, especially ones to herself. She had resolved never to date again and she hadn't; that night with Sam wasn't a 'date- date'. It was a 'friend- date'. But the way he made her feel...well, let's just say, she may have to do some re-evaluating on her no-dating policy. _


End file.
